


A Moment In Time

by Zayroen



Category: Masquerada: Songs and Shadows (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zayroen/pseuds/Zayroen
Summary: Then there was.. Kalden. A large imposing man, cut of blue cloth and easily mistaken for a brute at first glance. He was anything but. A healer first, a fighter second. He had retired to run an orphanage, again putting others before himself without a hint of concern it seemed. He pushed, always pushing. For him to talk of all things! About his emotions and how he was feeling, like any of that mattered. Like it had ever really mattered. His feelings and emotions had gotten him into his damn mess and he would very much like to do without them, thank you very much. Yet still, he persisted. He wanted to be mad, he was a little but not enough. Not really enough to make him stop and it was like Kalden knew that his words rung hollow, were lip service in their own way but he kept it up.





	A Moment In Time

He blamed a lot of things. The years away from the hustle and bustle of the Citte. The stress of being called back for so much coin. The worry of the case, for his friend. It was a lot for anyone to take, let alone him.

Then there was.. Kalden. A large imposing man, cut of blue cloth and easily mistaken for a brute at first glance. He was anything but. A healer first, a fighter second. He had retired to run an orphanage, again putting others before himself without a hint of concern it seemed. He pushed, always pushing. For him to talk of all things! About his emotions and how he was feeling, like any of that mattered. Like it had ever really mattered. His feelings and emotions had gotten him into his damn mess and he would very much like to do without them, thank you very much. Yet still, he persisted. He wanted to be mad, he was a little but not enough. Not really enough to make him stop and it was like Kalden knew that his words rung hollow, were lip service in their own way but he kept it up.

Cicero did not want to talk right now. He wanted to do anything but talk. Too much, too many words that buzzed around his head like flies. Like vultures. Picking and plucking at him until it seemed like he would need to crawl out of his own skin to get away and then there was Kalden. How did he know? Cicero was sure, so very sure, that he'd not been obvious. That he'd kept his cards close to his chest but again, Kalden was there. Pushing. Large hands on his own, pulling him aside. Voice, low and soothing in ways that Cicero wanted to deny but Songs he was just so tired? So tired that he just...said yes.

It was freeing, saying yes. The yes meant a lot of things. Yes, he was tired; yes, he wanted a break even for a few minutes; yes, he wanted. Wanted it all to stop, to freeze. Give him time to breathe in a way that he hadn't been able to since he stepped off that boat. Perhaps even since he'd stepped onto it. Yes meant a lot of things and it especially meant yes to the lips on his own.

They were in an alley way; granted, it was dark and they were tucked far back enough to not really be seen but it was still an alleyway and perhaps that made it easier? It was almost like it was not fully real, like they'd stepped out of time for awhile. Lips and beard and breath against his face. Hands curling slowly about his waist and Songs he knew Kalden was bigger but did not appreciate until his waist was spanned and he was lifted up between him and the cool wall. This was what he needed, what he craved. A moment, a slice that he did not have to do anything but feel and oh did it feel good!

The Mariner was all he could see, filling his vision before he closed his eyes to bare his neck, demanding. A quick warning of no marks, he couldn't bare any in his line of work, but he did not need worry. He was careful, teeth a bare whisper of what could be and yet couldn't; tongue hot and oh so perfect. He almost wished he could have marks, just to find out how Kalden would give them but no use crying over spilled wine. This was enough, more than enough. Tightening his legs just to feel the stretch in thighs spread wide around Kalden's girth brought a wave of want. Big, he was so damn big. The feel of wavy hair, and wasn't that ironic? The mariner had wavy hair, between his fingers as he held that mouth against him and oh! His favorite part. Hot and heavy against him, toes curling in his boots. If they only had time, but they did not and he squirmed a hand down only to have it batted away,

“Let me.” Deep and low in his ear and fuck if he could resist groaning at it, hands going back to Kalden's hair as he tugged that mouth against his. He would distract then, if he insisted Cicero was not to touch. Distract from the rising heat that drowned out the voices so thoroughly that he'd have cried in relief if he had not already forgotten about them under the kisses. 

And what kisses they were! Later, he'd sigh at himself for attributing everything to the blasted sea and waves like some sort of third rate minstrel but he did kiss like the sea. Calm and tranquil at one moment, rough and encompassing the next. He never knew what to expect and when to expect it. He loved it.

He also loved those hands that curled under his thighs, his ass. That squeezed and stroked and so easily held him up with just one as the other busied itself between them. A little awkward, the position and angle not lending itself very well to the action but it was enough to slip two fingers inside Cicero's now opened pants and enough to give Kalden a moan to muffle.

Songs above but he felt good. Kalden's hand was work rough, calloused in places different than what he himself had. Oars to swords, one might say. They felt lovely against his cock, stroking and rubbing until they were slick and damn it all to hell, he couldn't move enough in this position! No doubt part of the damn man's nefarious plan if his chuckle was anything to go by! 

“Mariner! If you do not hurry u-! Guh!” words cut off into an embarrassing sound as a thick finger slid down. Down down under his sack and curled in just the right way to have him arching sharply, words lost. Good, so good. Hips squirmed and shuddered, pressing down to get another taste that was obliged by Kalden as he did it again, whatever it was. It was good, so good. Lips against his made him realize he had been getting a little loud and he clenched at Kalden's hair to keep him there, groaning into his mouth. Let him have what he wrung from Cicero, let him drown in it so long as he did not stop.

A voice, so quiet and faint that he barely heard it, noted that shouldn't Kalden be getting something as well? He was still fully clothed was he not? But it was lost almost as soon as Cicero grasped for it when Kalden shifted and that was his entire palm pressed there. So Cicero could squirm against it, grind while those damnable fingers pressed and rubbed and coaxed him ever higher.

He was lost. In the kisses; hot and wet and full of Cicero's ever rising cries that were swallowed down greedily. Lost in the way he could only move so much, squirm so much as he was so fully encompassed by Kalden's everything. Hands, mouth, heat and scent and then he was found. Eyes widening and then rolling back. Stars flashing in his vision as he bucked as much as he could. He was sure he pulled on Kalden's hair but he didn't stop. Working him through it until Cicero was turning his face to gasp out a ragged plea. Enough, enough he couldn't.

It was a good thing Kalden was already bearing his weight as it was all Cicero could do to remember how breathing worked. In and out right? What about seeing? Forget walking, that was not on the agenda right away. 

For long moments, he basked in the warm kisses pressed to his face and neck. Warm and sweet and asking of nothing, even now. Even when he could feel Kalden against him and it must be painful by now, right? Shouldn't he return the favour? But Kalden just chuckled at the question and this close he could feel it as if it rumbled through him like thunder, and there was another one! Dammit.

He was set down, tucked in and cleaned up as Kalden cleaned off his hand and tucked the dirty handkerchief into a back pocket. “There is not time now. Perhaps later, if you want.” 

Not a refusal but, a delay. An offer for more should he wish it, accompanied by a kiss to his forehead before he stepped back with that same smile. As if he had not kissed Cicero breathless, not touched him as he had; like the world had not paused for it all, yet he did not feel.. displeased. He was not happy - he doubted he'd ever be happy in these lands - but he was unwound, slightly. Enough that he could breathe, the voices a quiet murmur in the back on his mind rather than a loud cacophony that threatened to overwhelm him.

He could do nothing but nod, busying himself with adjusting his clothes though he did not really need to. Licking his lips nervously brought the taste of salt and he started to speak, having no idea what to say really when a commotion stalled his words. 

They turned to the end of the alley in unison and just like that, Time marched ever forwards. He could let it pass, this moment. Let it go like nothing had happened and never would but...he didn't. “We will speak of this, later.” It was quick, was it what he had been going to say before? He didn't know, but it was enough. It had to be.

“Of course, Inspettore.” It was, he could tell by that twinkle in Kalden's eye before he turned at another wave of shouts. “We should check that out.” And they were off, running off into what was likely more danger, more threats but Cicero knew there would be a time. Perhaps not soon, but soon enough. Hopefully he'd have something better than attributing everything the Mariner did to the damn sea.


End file.
